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Every winter a most extraordinary journey occurs in the most inhospitable,
merciless terrain on earth -- Antarctica. Probably since they have
existed, thousands of Emperor penguins leave their sea home and
make a perilous journey to their traditional breeding grounds where
the ice is thicker (and hence safer), icebergs offer a semblance
of protection from the fiercest of the gale force winds and no predators
exist at this time of year. They are instinctually driven by an
overpowering urge to reproduce and ensure the continuation of their
species. In single file, they march through impossible weather in
a land of ice for hundreds of miles to pair off and mate. As the
days grow shorter and the weather becomes even more brutal, the
females lay a single egg. They are exhausted and starving, having
been away from the nourishment of the fish-filled seas for weeks
so they return across the ice field to eat, leaving the eggs behind
in the care of the males. The return journey is equally hazardous
and when they get there, leopard seals are waiting to prey on them.
Meanwhile, the male Emperors are left to guard and hatch the eggs,
making a cradle for the precious cargo on the top of their feet.
The eggs are vulnerable, given the subzero temperatures of the harsh
polar winter and many will not survive. Much like humans, regret
and sorrow were evident in the penguins when this happened.

The eggs take two months to hatch, during which the males have
nothing to eat. They all wait for the mothers to return with food
in their bellies to feed their offspring and if they are late or
fail to return, the penguin chicks will perish. Once the families
are reunited, the roles reverse; the mothers remain with their new
young while the exhausted and starved fathers make the long, treacherous
trek back to the sea to feed. Meanwhile, with the return of warmer
weather (warming in this case is around 58 degrees below 0 F), the
penguin chicks are prey for returning giant petrels. The marching
penguins reprise their dangerous journey back and forth innumerable
times until the chicks are mature enough to return home on their
own and dive into the waters of the Antarctic.

This film has apparently struck a chord with moviegoers, as evidenced
by its outgrossing both War of the Worlds and Batman Begins per
screen in July. Perhaps people are tired of watching movies replete
with wanton violence. Perhaps they are also weary of hearing about
all the carnage occurring in the world and need a respite. Or perhaps
it is because March of the Penguins is far more than a nature film.
When I saw it, the movie was sold out.

I loved this film. Not only were the subject matter and story fascinating
and the scenery truly awesome, but the universal theme of survival
despite great odds was unequivocally inspiring. If these creatures
can survive in such dire conditions and situations, so too can we.
Human beings, after all, are supposedly the more intelligent species.
However, the only way the penguins do survive is through cooperation
with each other. They keep each other warm and both genders share
the caretaking of the littlest and most vulnerable. The real point
of the story is that the survival of the species is only accomplished
through cooperation, sharing and unity. There could be no survival
and no new generation of Emperor penguins if there were competition,
selfishness and strife within the group. The only criticism I have
is that the threat of global warming surely endangers this ancient
way of life as well as the Emperor penguins themselves and the film
never addresses this. However, perhaps the focus is where it needs
to be in that survival is ultimately contingent on cooperation and
consensus and not on competition and conflict that seem to drive
the current world we live in. Are humans so very different from
these creatures? The penguins, I think, can teach us a profound
lesson, if only we could heed it.

Rating:
3 ½ thumbs up

The
Complete War of The Worlds A nifty pairing H.G. Wells's classic 1897
SF novel, The War of the Worlds, including the original magazine
illustrations, together with Howard Koch's radio play adaptation
made famous by Orson Welles in his October 30, 1938, broadcast,
which fooled thousands of listeners into thinking the East
Coast was under Martian attack. In addition to a foreword
by Ray Bradbury and an afterword by Ben Bova, Sourcebook editors
Holmsten and Lubertozzi supply an absorbing account of the
broadcast's impact, which puts the hoax in historical context;
an article on Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater; a survey
of both imaginary and actual space flights to and from Mars
and a succinct profile of H.G. Wells. It is interesting to
learn that Wells at first resented the radio broadcast, believing
Welles was going to read the novel, not dramatize it.

I saw this 1953 version of War of the Worlds as a child
and remember being scared by it, especially the part where the
alien space craft is plowing up magma. It made me afraid even
the ground wasn't safe.

War of the Worlds:
Same Game, Same Shame by Alllie

Thanks to : JanK for her beta helpSpoiler warning: Yes, I do reveal many plot points, but little
that will come as a surprise if you've read H. G. Wells' War
of the Worlds. You have, right?

I just saw War of the Worlds, and it reminded me of the
Iraq war, especially Falluja. I believe this was what Falluja was
like during the American attack with alien machines of tremendous
power raining down fire, death and destruction on a helpless city
while many people fled, some cowered in their homes, and a few tried
to fight. I even asked myself: When Ray (Tom Cruise) managed to
plant two grenades in the alien machine trying to kill him, do you
think the aliens labeled him a terrorist? Probably.

With American machines flying overhead, roaring like aliens; with
advanced American machines rolling down streets, encasing their
occupants in safety; with American soldiers clothed in body armor
killing Fallujans clothed only in flesh; how was the US military
different from the aliens in this movie? The aliens came to kill,
to exterminate, as did the soldiers sent to destroy Falluja. The
aliens came to steal a world for their own use. We came to steal
a country, or at least the oil in it. The aliens destroyed mindlessly
to eliminate resistance. We destroy just as mindlessly to eliminate
resistance. The aliens took captives to torturously use. We take
prisoners to torture and use. The aliens watered the soil with human
blood in order to transform the world into something useful to them.
Americanss water Iraqi soil with Iraqi blood in order to transform
the country into something that is profitable for the American plutocracy.
The aliens sported through the ruins. Americans play in the ruins
and make fun of corpses and grind their bodies into mush with their
machines, just for sport. (Ya want a url for the pictures? Email
me.)

How are we different? Well, for a start, ordinary germs are no
threat to us.

War of the Worlds also reminded me of Apocalypse Now.
Remember that scene where US helicopters attack a small Vietnamese
village? The village was primitive; the houses almost looked as
if they were built of sticks. When the attack started the little
kids were led from their schoolroom down into a bomb shelter while
the adults uncovered their one gun and attempted to fight against
the overwhelming force of technology aimed at them. In an attempt
to further scare the inhabitants, Wagner's stirring The Ride
of the Valkyries blared from speakers on a helicopter. War
of the Worlds was like that. There were even scary alien sounds.
The weight of overwhelming technological superiority was used to
crush people like they were insects, but in real life, it is the
American machines that seem like undefeatable alien ships.

It's called the Backbird.

The Stealth B2 bomber.

The Stealth Fighter

The B2 bomber.

Don't they look like alien craft? They could be dropped into War
of the Worlds (or Star Wars or SG-1 or Battlestar
Galactica) fighting for the alien side and be credible. But
back to the movie.

The War of the Worlds was okay. It went by very fast which is generally
the mark of a good movie. It was well-written, and the special effects
were very good and generally seamless and believable. The malevolent
alien machines seemed almost alive. (My one complaint about their
design is that the legs tapered down too much, almost to nothing.

The legs were meant to look spidery, but something that big and
heavy can't walk on tippytoes. ) People occasionally acted stupidly,
but not as much as in many scifi and horror movies. Tom Cruise was
okay, as well. Never my favorite actor, never an actor I'd go to
a movie just to see, never an actor who can make me feel what his
character is feeling; still, he has been in a lot of good movies.
He's rarely made a bad one and didn't in War of the Worlds.

Young Dakota Fanning, who played Cruise's daughter Rachael, showed
flashes of the authenticity and talent she displayed in the SciFi
channel's miniseries Taken. Even though WotW didn't
require much acting from her, and Spielberg had her scream a little
too much, she still delivered. This is probably one of Dakota's
last childhood roles. She's about to be a teen, and I could already
see the shadow of the woman she is about to become flickering across
her face. Barring an attack of fatness, incurable acne or teenaged
imbecility, she's our new Jodie Foster, and we'll be watching her
till she dies or we do. I just hope she doesn't grow up to be something
bad that will keep me from enjoying her future performances, say
a serial killer or a Republican.

I hated Ray (Tom Cruise) for his treatment of his daughter. His
idea of protecting her involved keeping her ignorant, not telling
her what was going on or letting her see what was happening. This
is an old and repellent form of female repression and not a wise
choice during a disaster. Can you imagine a chimp mother covering
its young's eyes rather than letting it see the danger of an approaching
leopard? We learn by seeing. Ray seemed bent on keeping daughter
Rachael unchanged by the horrors around her by keeping her ignorant
of them.

I was also disturbed when Ray blindfolded Rachael while he went
to kill someone who was endangering them - something he did behind
a closed door, making the blindfold doubly unnecessary. The scene
had an S&M, pedophile vibe that freaked me out a little. I bet
all the peds were titillated and massaging their crotches as they
watched it. I bet WotW becomes a ped favorite because of
this scene.

I liked how Ray's son Robbie (Justin Chatwin) was filled with war
lust. Robbie wanted to see. He wanted to help. Robbie wanted to
fight. Ray was just trying to save himself and his kids by running
away, but Robbie was filled with the instinct to battle the aliens,
to go with the advancing army, to do SOMETHING. Ray finally lets
him go in a scene that every parent must face when their son becomes
a man, even a man who rushes toward danger rather than away from
it. This is the instinct that kept many a group alive back in our
more primitive days, the instinct to fight to protect the pack.
Too bad that now this same instinct is used by dictators and monsters
like Bush to get young people to fight and die for the plutocracy's
greed.

I hadn't been to a movie in several years. I was annoyed by two
things: ten minutes of commercials BEFORE the movie. When did this
crap start? I pay and I still have to look at commercials!! There
ought to be a law! And the movie industry wonders why people won't
go to movies. Second, since it had been so long since I went to
a movie, I decided to splurge and get some popcorn and a drink.
They cost MORE than the movie.

I missed the great sound that everyone raved about. The theater
where I saw the movie apparently didn't have the ability to blast
you out of your seat. Alas.

All and all, War of the Worlds was a pretty good movie,
well worth seeing at least once.

Rating:

The
Complete War of The Worlds A nifty pairing H.G. Wells's classic 1897
SF novel, The War of the Worlds, including the original magazine
illustrations, together with Howard Koch's radio play adaptation
made famous by Orson Welles in his October 30, 1938, broadcast,
which fooled thousands of listeners into thinking the East
Coast was under Martian attack. In addition to a foreword
by Ray Bradbury and an afterword by Ben Bova, Sourcebook editors
Holmsten and Lubertozzi supply an absorbing account of the
broadcast's impact, which puts the hoax in historical context;
an article on Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater; a survey
of both imaginary and actual space flights to and from Mars
and a succinct profile of H.G. Wells. It is interesting to
learn that Wells at first resented the radio broadcast, believing
Welles was going to read the novel, not dramatize it.

I saw this 1953 version of War of the Worlds as a child
and remember being scared by it, especially the part where the
alien space craft is plowing up magma. It made me afraid even
the ground wasn't safe.

WAR OF THE WORLDS
Or, How I Spent One Night of My Summer Vacation

Spoiler Warning: Hint of ending (if you don't already know)

OK, bear with me here. This review is going to be a "stream
of consciousness" sort of thing because I don't do these for
a living. Did I just give you a reason to go do something else?
I hope not. Just give me a minute.

The first thing I noticed upon settling into my theater seat to
see Stevie Spielberg's latest disaster flick "War of The Worlds"
was that I had to go to the bathroom. Now I'm a grown guy and you'd
think I'd have addressed this long before I went into the theater
but hey, there it is. With a bladder that was pressing into my studded
belt, I debated getting up and relieving myself and missing the
first few minutes of the film. But I hate doing that. I hate missing
setups. I still think they are crucial to the film, or at least
my experience with it. I like to "wade in the pool" before
the tidal wave comes. Plus, I have this little test involving films
and the need to urinate. If it's a really good film, I'll forget
about how bad I have to pee. Would I forget about my bladder screaming
at me? The test was to come.

Fifteen minutes or so into a lame set up (Tom Cruise, bad divorced
father, gets kids for weekend. Uncomfey moments around badly dressed,
knocked-up ex-wife and her Queer-Eye, GQ boyfriend. Want some nachos?)
and I forget that I have to pee. So far, so good.

When the aliens make their big appearance driving their souped-up,
metal scarab beetles on stilts, you remember most of what you paid
for - the sound and special effects. Let's give credit where credit
is due. Industrial Light & Magic know their smack. The sound
was teeth rattling. Enough to cause some arrhythmia if you weren't
careful. The ominous looking storms that preceded the alien gangsta's
debut were more than real. The crackle and hum of their electro-weapons
made you wonder if your palm pilot would have its memory wiped just
sitting there. Boo yah. This is what American films are really made
for these days, the sturm und drang and ze big bang bang. Who am
I to buck a little patriotism?

But then we get into the main problem I have with most American
films. Just a few minor details like, say, lack of a good story,
good acting, and characters you care about. I'm not saying this
just because Tom Cruise is a fucking douche bag cultist who knows
about depression like he knows how to fake a good New York accent,
but he is really swan diving to the bottom of the outhouse tank
in this role. I can see him as a spy, I can see him lip syncing
to old Bob Seeger tunes in his underwear, hell I can even see him
as a Samurai. Well, OK, a pastey-faced, midwest, corn-fed boy Samurai,
but I'm being generous.

But, a hardened New York City dockworker, who is, oddly enough,
the only guy on his block that sounds like he just moved to the
'hood from Beverly Hills? Nuh uh. A hamfisted Mr. America who has
salvagable brownie points as a father if he can just dodge those
metal scarab beetles on stilts for long enough to get the manly
hug from his teenage son? Not a chance. If you don't believe me,
wait till you see him crying. Yes, Tom Cruise crying. Why is he
crying? A feeling of unimaginable fright and hopelesness for the
future? The gut wrenching remorse over not demanding near enough
money to be in this film? Wondering if Brooke Shields was waiting
in the studio parking lot to kick his ass? Who knows. What I do
know is that I cringed inside when his face wrinkled like a Shar-Pei
and his chin wiggled.

And when will that girl stop screaming? When Lord When? Jamie Lee
Curtis had nothing on this little bug eyed, hummus eating syrene.

Alright by now, I realize I have to pee again. Bad sign. Oh but
here comes Tim Robbins, one of my favorite actors. Surely HE can
save this thing. Hmmm, he's fat. OK, maybe the character is supposed
to be fat. Wait, is he coming on to that little girl? The urine
poison is beginning to make me hallucinate. Lets just say its an
awful thing to watch one of your screen heroes go down like a turd
in a punch bowl. Merciful that he only appears in about twenty minutes
of the film? You betcha.

Part of the problem is that I have always loved this classic. Orson
Wells' original radiocast is still enough to set your hair on end
or have you jumping out of a window. Classics are wonderful that
way. But in this retro, remake-the-remake-of-the-remake motion picture
culture, screenwriters are getting lazy. It's like they think the
well of ideas has already been tapped long ago, and they have some
sort of entitlement to just milk that sucker until a whole new generation
comes up and forgets all this shit has already been said. But really,
what's wrong with an angle on the old classic? How about a new twist
on an old theme? Other than "Is it terrorists??" (oh,
PLEASE). Isn't there something we can do with the great us against
them? Perhaps even a little social commentary just to remind ourselves
we are still evolving beings as we're yee-hawing the next big explosion?
Spielberg used his name, his money and his rep to cover the fact
that, artistically, he was really on the ropes with this one (Don't
say that too loud, you may wake Mr. Spielberg from his nap).

I'm not telling you to avoid this film. Heavens no. In fact, go
in thin clothes so the surround sound speakers feel you up like
a 14 year old boy on his first date. But if you're looking for a
great (new) story, primo acting and a feeling like you actually
experienced something that will last you longer than Chinese food,
don't torture yourself. You may be so disgusted that you'll rush
the screen at the end and thrust a Tylenol bottle at the dying aliens,
so they'll whip this deadly earth cold and take another crack at
the invasion.

At any rate, I flew out of the theater before the first credits
rolled - straight to the boy's room and did to a shiny urinal what
Steven Spielberg and Tom Cruise did to a timeless classic.

Thanks for listening.

Scott Lee
Rating:

War of the Worlds: Sound
& Fury
a review by AlKanadi

The title of this review pretty much sums up this film, sound
& fury. For those of you who have read the book, you will be
pleased with how the filmmakers have remained, more or less, faithful
to its basic storyline. As I've not seen the 1953 film version,
except for bits and pieces from time to time, I can't really comment,
except to say I'm pretty sure you'll be happy with the result.

This movie is about a father, and not a particularly good father
at that, having to deal with an alien invasion AND try to reach
his estranged wife while keeping his children alive in the process.
Tom Cruise, the lead character, is a man who's clearly not cut out
for fatherhood, yet when the crisis comes, does what any parent
would do, that is, do his best to keep his family alive.

The film begins with a voiceover, done by Morgan Freeman, which
is essentially the first paragraph of the book by H.G. Wells. That
concluded, we are treated to the usual 15 minutes or so of character
introduction. Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise), his two children Robbie
and Rachel, played by Justin Chatwin and Dakota Fanning, and his
estranged wife, whom we see little of during the film.

It isn't long before the aliens (whom we'll call Martians, their
origin is never actually explained) make their appearance, laying
waste to Rays New York City neighborhood in an orgy of rather novel
death ray destruction. These are not your fathers Martians and the
special effects, in particular the SOUND effects, are not what any
sci-fi fan is used to. This movies audio is just incredible, which
is why I would encourage anyone who can scrape up the money, go
and see it on the big screen. I rather doubt the DVD will do it
justice, unless of course, you happen to be blessed with an exceptional
surround sound system.

Ray, who barely escapes being turned into human dust by the Martians,
makes it home and cowers in his home with his kids for a bit before
deciding to head to Boston. Finding one of the few cars that still
works (the Martians have, upon arrival, rendered useless just about
anything dependent upon electricity, including cell phones and wrist
watches) Ray and his kids flee the city, intending on reaching Boston.

Unlike many films, where the protagonist is sort of a Rambo/MacGyver
sort of guy who can leap tall buildings in single bound, wipe out
legions of bad guys with a six-gun, and build a fully functional
armored personnel carrier from an old van and some vinyl siding,
our Ray is pretty mundane, an ordinary Joe facing enormous stress
and hardship. and it shows. He fights with his kids, they fight
with him, and the point is very clearly made that he has not ever
really gotten to know them. They arrive at his estranged wife's
house and spend a lonely and scary night before narrowly escaping
a grim death. Again, they flee.

Its not long before they come to a town crowded with refugees,
and the scenes that follow show what can happen when a large mob
of terrified people all have the same goal in mind. In this case,
they want to board the only ferry crossing a river. But, of course,
the Martians make an appearance and the following scenes demonstrate
what a disaster at sea is probably really like. Chaos and mayhem
ensues, and Ray and his kids barely escape with their skins. Few
others do. Watch for a scene involving a passenger train. It is
chilling.

Next, Ray and family end up holed up in the basement of a house,
occupied by another normal guy under stress. I won't go into detail,
but think 'hide and seek', but this hide and seek could have some
pretty unpleasant consequences. These scenes are the most creepy
and suspenseful of the film, and many gasps could be heard in the
audience around us as events unfolded.

I won't describe much else, except to say that things get even
worse for Ray and his family. For those who've seen the 1953 movie
or read the book, you'll KNOW the 'ending', which is done very well
indeed. The film is one of those in which you will likely never
glance down to your watch, wondering how much time is left. The
action, while not non-stop, is frequent and events progress at what
feels like a rapid pace. It is definitely worth seeing, and HEARING.
I cannot stress the audio of this film enough. It makes what could
have possibly been a good movie into a great movie.